


The Wild Hunt

by Silencio_Qing



Category: Hellblazer, Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Lucifer (Comic), The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silencio_Qing/pseuds/Silencio_Qing
Summary: A prophecy concerning the wild hunt brought the Devil to New York. He seeks the help of a certain John Constantine.
Relationships: John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Vertigo Comics)
Kudos: 1





	1. The Prophecy

After everything... The Morningstar stood at the centre of a dying star... contemplating. Mazikeen was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had given up on him, he thought. Even her.

He dreamt of Sycorax again - the fire they lit together, under the watchful eyes of the moon god. The Morningstar wondered if an old friend of his would still be somewhere in the universe - in corners of dreams.

“Sweet Morpheus... but he’s long gone.”

But what next? The former lord of hell was all alone - again. No allies, loads of enemies... 

“There is a prophecy.”

He hated prophecies. After all, the war he fought, the first of all wars, was for freedom, wasn’t it? Prophecies - painfully unfree, by definition. He thought of the war again, how he had fallen and how another one was almost started... for what? In the end Sycorax refused even Death of the Endless - she chose to embrace whatever afterlife that shall take her. Was it all for nothing then?

The prophecy... that he shall return to rule the darkness again unsettled him nonetheless. After all he had come such a long way, since... Dream old friend cut off his wings - under his request. He did miss him - the romantic, the proud, the ever serious Dream King - the third of The Endless that the Morningstar once sworn to destroy.

“Thoughts are strange things.”

But it was time to move on.


	2. The Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was co-written with Killian.

*Phtick, Phtick, Phtick*

Three clicks, that's all it took for the cigarette end to light, creating a faint orange glow at the furthest point. Constantine took a deep look of the cigarette. It brought a sweet rush to his fingers knowing that this was indeed, an illegal substance, and knowing that he was utterly unaffected by it. He watched as the cigarette filled with the white tendrils of burning toxins. He let it fill up, the tube being now filled with the white substance. And then John took a deep drag of it, and felt as that sweet burning sensation curled throughout his lungs and throat, ripping its way to his head. He finally let it out in a huge cloud watching the light create abstract colours out of the light mist still hanging in the air.

Everything in his mind seemed to pause for a moment, as he took the time to enjoy the peace. A sickly feeling only to add to the sickly environment. The place had a depressing smell of mildew and neglect. Mixed with rat piss and an expected, intoxicatingly potent, stench of smoke that reminded him of well, himself.

"John Constantine."

That was the sound of the peace shattering. That was the sound that caused the hairs on John's neck to raise and his skin to shift. Not only the name, but the one saying it.

"Lucifer bloody Mornin'star," John seethed through gritted teeth, turning on his heel to see Lucifer. Blowing, very deliberately, a puff of smoke into his face. "T'what do I owe the misfortune, eh?"

“So you do know who I am. Saved us the introduction,” the Devil grinned, although unaffected by the obnoxious chemicals, he gracefully waved the smoke away as it was blocking his sight.

“Well let’s skip the formalities, John Constantine,” he said the name as if he was biting into each letter, “I have a task for you. If you would choose to accept the invitation.” He said the word “choose” in a way that did not seem to convey such choice after all.

A cigarette seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and now, the Devil lit up a small flame from his fingertip and put it near the end of the cigarette. It soon turned fiery red.

“It’s about the Wild Hunt. And a prophecy,” he said the last word with such distain that one might even say that he grinded through the syllables.

“Rebirth of gods and such,” he let out a puff of smoke while raising his chin a bit. He took a pause, as if to convince himself the man standing in front of him is worth the while.

“I could use some of your... expertise,” he seemed to have reached a conclusion, “I hope that I have explained myself well enough, exorcist.”

"Prophecy and myths... If you weren't the Devil I'd call you insane." John remarked to Lucifer, giving him a confident smirk. He felt more than confident he could hold his own, for a while at least, if things went sideways. Because magic was indeed, a fighting style, routine, choreography, a science, a technology. It can be used for the betterment of mankind, to promote our evolution, or to bring devastation upon the human race as a whole. Those who practice the dark arts tend to use it for power and control, for abuse and for the pleasure they feel in causing pain and death. But John used it for more selfish, in the moment reasons, and luckily for the 'good guys', he was typically on their side. Dark Magic, for the most part, is a linguistic method, hence the spells in literature, the sense that it is done with words. Perhaps chanting a phrase backwards might work for some, or some mumbo-jumbo with the flick of a stick, but for Constantine, it was more akin to barbaric whispers.

"You've explained yourself just fine, but why would I help you?"

"How about the prospect that disasters and distructions shall fall on this Earth that you inhabit if the Wild Hunt is resumed?”

The red-headed fallen angel replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Although he is named the Lord of Lies, he always tells the truth, at least parts of it.

"As well..." he took a pause, as if to build suspense, "you probably do not hold the memory of this encounter, as it happened in the land of the dreaming, yet, you did come to me not too long ago, stating that you have experienced a form of resurrection... I confirmed to you, then, that you were pure flesh and blood and were as alive as a human can be. The curious mechanism that Morpheus had set in the dreaming made me wonder if your current state of affairs may be somehow linked to my inquiries."

"As I stated earlier. It is indeed your choice to join my little experiment or..." he inhaled the mixed chemicals that are so addictive to humans and let out a puff of smoke, "not." You would not dare to interpret that as comforting, and you would be wise.


End file.
